


more than the thought

by helsinkibaby



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Sometimes it's the thought that counts. Sometimes it's not.
Relationships: Calleigh Duquesne/Tim Speedle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	more than the thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Athereal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athereal/gifts).



> Found on the hard drive, written a million years ago.

She was almost to her car when she heard a familiar voice calling her name, and she turned somewhat awkwardly, hoping against hope that she wouldn't spill everything that was in her arms. "Hey Speed," she said, smiling at him, trying to get a good line of sight on him, more difficult than she would have thought with the large bunch of flowers that she was carrying. 

"Calleigh, hey," he said, jogging to meet her, nodding his head in the direction of the bouquet. "I see H gave you the flowers."

"Yes, aren't they gorgeous?" Calleigh glanced down at them, marvelling once more at how generous the lab personnel had been. There were easily fifty dollars worth of flowers there, and she had serious doubts as to whether she had enough vases at home to show them off. Then she realised what Speed had said, and more importantly, what he hadn't. "Wait a second, you mean you were in on this too?" she demanded, and he gave a shrug in response. 

"I think most of the shift kicked in," he told her, making her arch her eyebrows in surprise. "What, you think we'd let your birthday go by unmarked?"

"Well, it's not like I was expecting anything," she told him, cheeks flushing red. "Or that it's an important one…"

"It's just a bunch of flowers," he pointed out, but she shook her head, because that wasn't all she'd got. 

"And a very generous gift token for my favourite clothes store," she said, before tilting her head as a thought occurred to her. "You think they're trying to tell me something about my fashion sense?"

Speed chuckled at that. "I think you look fine," he told her, causing another, inexplicable, rush of heat to coat her cheeks, and he might have noticed that, because he shifted awkwardly on his feet before he continued. "Anyway, I know you're on your way home, but I just wanted to give you this." It was only then that she noticed the small, gift-wrapped box in his hand, and she couldn't help gasping in surprise. 

"You didn't have to do that…" she told him, trying to take it off him, not the easiest thing in the world to do, what with the flowers, her purse and her car keys all in her hands already. 

"Here, let me help you with those," he said, gesturing with one arm towards her car, taking the keys from her and unlocking the door for her when they got there. She laid the flowers across the back seat, then turned back to him, taking the box off him, observing it from all angles, trying to figure out where the best place to begin unwrapping it would be. It was surprisingly well wrapped, and when he saw her picking at the tape, he held up his hand, stopping her hurriedly. "No, you don't have to open it here…you can wait until you get home…"

She frowned, not so much at his words, but at the fact that he was already backing away from her. "Speed-" she began, but he held up a hand, stalling her. 

"It's not much…I just saw it…thought you'd like it…I'll see you tomorrow…"

"Thank you!" she called out after him, curious then, because she'd never seen Speed so flustered over anything in all the time she'd been working with him. Shrugging, sure that she'd find out what was up with him sooner or later, she got into her car, throwing her purse and the present on the passenger seat, fully intending to go straight home. Her key had been in the ignition, hand poised to turn it, when the little box on the passenger seat had caught her eye, and she'd wondered again what it could be that Speed had given her. 

To hell with willpower she decided, reaching for the box. 

She dispensed with the paper quickly, finding inside a plain brown cardboard box. The flap was stuck down with sticky tape, and she slid a nail underneath it to open it up, gasping for the second time that day when she saw what was inside the box. 

"I don't believe it," she murmured to herself. 

There had been a case that she and Speed had worked together about six months ago, a break and enter, in which an old lady had been raped and beaten. She and Speed had got the job of processing the house, and all had been going well until Speed had called Calleigh's attention to the cabinets in the living room, which had been filled with ornaments and assorted bric-a-brac. There had been several blank spaces on the shelves, and he'd lifted one eyebrow at Calleigh. "Robbery?" he'd guessed, snapping a couple of pictures, and she'd shrugged. 

"Could be," she surmised. "Some of this stuff looks like it could be pretty valuable… some of it's just junk though." The corner display had caught her attention, and she moved towards it, only dimly aware of Speed following her. 

"This doesn't look like it was disturbed," he'd murmured, and she nodded her assent, picking up one of the pieces there carefully. "Music boxes," she'd heard him say. 

"I used to have one just like this when I was a little girl," she'd told him, lost in memory. The box was small, perhaps four inches by three, a little more than an inch deep, with a shiny coral finish. The edges and corners were gilded with gold, the whole structure balancing on small gold claws and when she lifted up the lid, a familiar tune lilted out. "Fantasie Impromptu," she'd murmured, closing her eyes for a second, remembering how she'd loved that box when she was small. "It was my mother's," she'd found herself continuing, surprised both at how easy it was to talk about that with him in the room and the fact that she was remembering this at all, for she didn't think about her childhood often. "It used to be hers when she was a child, and her mother's before that…it got passed down all the way along, I don't know how old it was…" She'd shaken herself then as she realised what she was doing, walking down memory lane in the middle of a crime scene, putting the box back on the shelf before turning to look at him, an embarrassed grin on her face. 

To her surprise though, he didn't look exasperated, or as if he minded the distraction. Instead his head had been tilted to one side, his hands holding the camera carefully, all his attention on her. "What happened to it?" he'd wondered, and she'd shrugged, affecting ignorance. 

"I can't remember," she'd lied, and she'd seen him frown, but he hadn't called her on it. In point of fact, she knew quite well what had happened to the music box. It had been broken, smashed to smithereens the morning after her senior prom, the morning she and her father had had the terrible fight over her prom date. Her father had been furious at her, telling her that she'd disgraced her family, that she was no child of his, and he'd thrown everything that he could get his hands on, Calleigh cowering in a corner of the room, because she'd never seen him so angry. When he'd finished with the room, he'd started in on her, with his fists, his belt, and sometimes, when she dreamed at night, she could still hear him shouting, still woke up crying and terrified. 

She hadn't told Speed any of that though, had just gone on about the business of processing the scene, and she hadn't thought any more of that case until today. 

Until she was sitting in her car, holding a box that was almost exactly like the one she'd held at that crime scene. There were a few subtle differences; the finish was ivory rather than coral, and when she opened it up, it wasn't the Fantasie Impromptu she heard, but the Moonlight Sonata. In all other respects though, they were the same, and she couldn't believe that he'd remembered. 

She was rooted to her seat for what seemed like a long time, staring at the box, the music swirling around her before she made a decision, yanking the key out of the ignition, still holding the music box in her hand, striding back towards the lab. She passed Speed's bike in the parking lot, so she knew he was still there, and while it took her a while to find him, she eventually did, in the layout room, dusting for fingerprints. He was alone in the room, his back to her, and he jumped when she spoke. "You really thought I had that much willpower?"

He put down the vase that he was dusting, laying the fingerprint brush very carefully beside it before he turned to her, and she wondered idly if he was playing for time. "You opened it," he said when he saw the box in her hand, his hands reaching back to lean on the counter behind him, and she nodded, walking over to the bench, placing the box between them. 

"It's beautiful," she said softly, staring down at it, and she heard him shifting on his feet. 

"It um… it looked like the one you were talking about… I know it's a little different…" As he talked, she lifted the lid, the music filling the otherwise silent room, and he continued, "And the music, I wasn't sure if it was the right tune…"

"It's perfect." Her words broke across his, and she looked up, meeting his gaze. "Thank you," she whispered. 

He shrugged, clearing his throat again. "You're welcome." His voice was husky and low, making every hair on the back of her neck stand on end, sending shivers up and down her spine. She knew that he couldn't have missed the gooseflesh that rose up on her arms, any more than she missed the spark of something that flared in his eyes as he took a step closer to her. "Happy birthday Calleigh," he whispered, reaching out with one hand, touching his fingers to her elbow gently. 

"You know," she murmured. "It's not my birthday until tomorrow. And I've got the whole day off…"

"I did, in fact, know that," he said, not moving an inch. 

"Ah." She nodded once. "So… there's a gang of us going out tonight…to celebrate… you could come…"

"I could," he said, but he broke their gaze, glancing at the bench full of evidence, and she felt her heart sink ever so slightly. "Or..." That single word gave her hope, as did the fact that he looked at her again, that same spark back in his eyes. "We could have dinner tomorrow… just the two of us…"

Calleigh felt a slow smile spreading across her face. "I'd like that."

Tim smiled too, and it vanished so quickly that Calleigh thought she might have imagined it. "I can pick you up at eight, eight thirty?" he suggested, and she nodded, picking back up her music box. 

"Eight thirty it is," she said, making for the door, an extra swing in her hips for his benefit. 

She was at the door when she heard him speak again. "Happy birthday Calleigh," he said again, and she glanced back over her shoulder at him, meeting his eyes, hoping that he could see everything she wanted to convey from hers. 

"It is now," she told him, winking at him before walking out of the lab and going home.


End file.
